


You Doing Anything After This?

by berlynn_wohl



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Roleplay, Seduction, Snake is a bottom but Iroquois Pliskin is a top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 01:38:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19819873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/berlynn_wohl/pseuds/berlynn_wohl
Summary: Otacon is trying to concentrate on the mission, but a handsome stranger called Iroquois Pliskin wants his attention.





	You Doing Anything After This?

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this art: https://peachdeluxe.tumblr.com/post/181896209073

As he listened carefully to Raiden’s explanation of his current position, Snake waved at Otacon to turn the laptop towards him. When he could see the screen, he silently pointed out to Otacon on the map where Raiden was. Otacon brought up the schematics and closed-circuit feeds of that strut, pointing out its most crucial features.

Snake examined the screen, nodded at Otacon, then explained to Raiden, “When you leave the strut, the IR sensors will be on your immediate right and left. Target them before you attempt to move down the connecting bridge. Two guards should be stationed at the other end, but they don’t appear to be there right now. Approach with caution, and call me when you’ve reached the platform.”

Snake flicked the codec off, and they were left in silence in their cavernous warehouse hideout. Raiden was on his own for now, and no one was banging down the door of strut H, and so there was nothing to do at the moment but wait. Snake and Otacon leaned back in their chairs and took simultaneous deep breaths. When they saw that they were moving in sync, they smiled warmly at each other. They’d gotten more and more like that, since Shadow Moses: familiar, harmonized.

Then Snake gave a little huff of a laugh, like he’d just thought of something mildly amusing. Otacon waited for him to explain what he was thinking of, but instead, Snake scooted his chair closer to Otacon. “So, Doctor Emmerich,” he said in an oddly casual tone, “you doing anything after this is over?”

Otacon looked baffled for a moment, until Snake reached over and delicately touched the back of his hand with two fingertips, his grin sly and his eyes sultry. _Oh_. He was playing a little game; Otacon got it now. He wasn’t sure this was the best place for a game, but he trusted Snake to know when it was okay to lighten the mood a little. He took one more quick look at the camera feeds outside the warehouse, but saw nothing remarkable. So he smiled bashfully, looked down at the floor, and pushed his glasses up. “I’m sorry, Mister Pliskin, but I have a…” He had to think for a second of what the right word would be. He’d never had to choose a word before, because he had never talked about his and Snake’s relationship with anyone else. _Partner_ sounded so dry, not to mention ambiguous. _A man_ sounded too sassy and bold. He finally settled on “…a boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend, huh?” Snake’s fingers slid over Otacon’s wrist, not so gentle now but not gripping yet. “Doesn’t seem like he’s a very good boyfriend if he leaves you here all alone when things are so dangerous.”

Otacon looked down at Snake’s playful fingers sneaking across his bare skin. He didn’t know how much he was supposed to be resisting the advances of this “handsome stranger,” but he knew that he didn’t want Snake to stop touching him like he was. As small as Snake’s gesture was, Otacon found it thrilling. They had never had this kind of achingly flirtatious interaction before. On the run after Shadow Moses, they had gone from compatriots to lovers all at once, in a single night, with no intermediate phase full of coy glances and tentative touches. Since then, the way they went about things could be plenty exciting for sure, especially the fervent coupling in a blaze of adrenaline after a successful mission. But never had Snake tried to – or needed to – _seduce_ him.

Otacon explained to his handsome stranger, “Well, he’s on an important mission.”

Snake rolled his chair the last few inches, until the wheels bumped Otacon’s chair. “But what could be more important than you, huh? Maybe it’s time you found someone who can treat you right.” He ducked his head so that he was breathing on, but not quite touching, Otacon’s ear and neck, and Otacon’s whole body was wracked by a shiver of desire and anticipation. He wanted so badly to feel Snake’s nose brush against that little spot behind his ear, but he dared not ask, or move.

“Oh, I couldn’t,” he breathed, in response to Snake’s suggestion. “I love him, I could never betray him.”

Reaching down with one hand, Snake could just barely touch Otacon’s knee. His fingertips stroked it lightly. “Betrayal is such a strong word. You’re just having a little fun while he’s left you all alone. It’s what you deserve for working so hard. He doesn’t ever have to find out.”

Otacon’s heart was pounding. “Gee, I don’t know…”

At last, Snake pressed his nose against Otacon’s neck, breathing in his scent and uttering a little pleased hum. Otacon gasped, but kept up the act. “I think you’re trying to get me to do something bad.”

Snake leaned in closer, so his hand could slide across Otacon’s knee and over his inner thigh. “It’ll feel so good, I promise. It won’t feel wrong at all.” He dropped the softest kiss on Otacon’s neck, so sweet that Otacon’s prick jerked in his trousers, a little pulse of wetness emerging from the tip.

The chirp of the codec startled Snake out of his seat, and he nearly took Otacon with him and onto the floor. He collected himself, however, and greeted Raiden. Otacon hunched over his erection, as though he were worried that Raiden would somehow be able to see it, then turned back to face his computer.

***

Snake grabbed the keys off the kitchen counter and flatly announced his departure: “Going for a drive. Be back.”

Otacon put down his book and sat up in his chair. “Is everything alright?”

“’S fine, just gotta clear my head a little.”

There was a finality in Snake’s voice that Otacon was too afraid to argue with. “Well, okay…” he replied, and leaned back, acting like he was going to casually return to his book. Instead, he peeked over the cover and watched Snake walk out the door.

It was unusual for Snake to go anywhere without him. Even when they bought groceries, it was nearly always together, if they could manage it. Snake was fine on his own, but Otacon was nervous whenever Snake wasn’t by his side; they were wanted men, and he was no trained soldier. Snake always set up booby traps and security devices wherever they were lying low, but there was only so much Otacon could do by himself if some enemy agent slipped past those barriers and burst in through a door or window.

But perhaps that constant closeness was why Snake was going for a drive now. It was understandable if he occasionally got tired of always having Otacon at arm’s length, especially at times like these, between missions, when Snake had the tendency to become restless without an urgent task to fulfill. Of course, regardless of circumstance, everyone liked a little solitude once in a while. Slowly, Otacon returned his attention to his manga. Perhaps he could make the most of this situation; if he was going to be alone, he could peruse something a little spicier than _Suzaku of the Counterattack_ , something special he could enjoy his alone time with.

Then there was a knock on the door.

It was a polite knock, which made it not only startling but mystifying. Snake would have no need to knock; Otacon saw him take the keys. And who else on Earth knew who they were and where they were, _and_ would knock on the door rather than break it down? Otacon’s adrenaline spiked. He reached into the sofa cushions and pulled out the stashed M9 that Snake had taught him how to shoot. He flicked the safety off and crept to the door.

But when he looked through the peephole, he saw Iroquois Pliskin.

Fatigue trousers, a tactical vest over his t-shirt, he even had on the headset – it was kind of funny how Snake had gotten all dressed up and was now waiting on the doorstep. Otacon set the gun on the kitchen counter and opened the door.

“Hey,” Snake greeted him, one hand on his cocked hip.

“Mister Pliskin,” Otacon said. “How did you find me here?”

Snake flashed a seductive smile as he slipped the headset off and shook out his hair. “You couldn’t keep me away, after we left that unfinished business at Big Shell. I had to see you again, no matter what it took. So, you gonna invite me in?”

“Oh, but my boyfriend might be back any minute.” As he said this, Otacon stepped back, so Snake could slink in the door.

Snake smiled. “I’m sure we have plenty of time. Why so nervous? I guess I did drop in a little unexpectedly.” He sidled up to Otacon, took him by his elbow, and led him the short distance to the sofa. “I just wanted to visit so I could get to know you a little better.” He sat down, still holding Otacon’s arm, which compelled Otacon to sit down too.

“Oh, uh, what is there to know, really.” Otacon fidgeted with his hands in his lap. “I’m an engineer, and uh, I like stuff from Japan…” Snake gently took one of Otacon’s hands in both of his and stroked it tenderly. “…and I’m very happy with my boyfriend, thank you!”

Snake did not let go of Otacon’s hand. “Oh yeah? Very happy?”

“Extremely.”

“One hundred percent satisfied?”

Otacon hesitated. Playing pretend was one thing, but he wasn’t very good at _lying_. “I mean, pretty much one hundred percent, yeah.”

Snake smiled. The fingers of his right hand traveled up and down Otacon’s arm, then across his shoulders and back. His voice was soft. “Nothing at all that he doesn’t give you?”

Otacon fidgeted, pushed up his glasses. “Being with someone is about compromise sometimes, that’s what I’ve learned.”

“Really. What do you compromise on, for your boyfriend?”

Otacon knew that Snake knew the answer to this. And he knew that Snake knew that he knew. He could only conclude that Snake wanted him to say it, wanted him to bring it out in the open. Before he could find it in himself to say the words, he gestured using both hands, index fingers outstretched, to make a sort of flip-flop motion. “I’m, I guess you could say versatile? I can be the top or bottom, and I like both. But my boyfriend, he doesn’t like to top. We tried it a couple times, but he says he misses my, uh…he misses having me inside him. So I just…sometimes I wish…”

Snake leaned in close, whispered to him as though they were not alone in the room but he desperately needed to share a secret. “You wish that you could surrender your body to him. You want to be opened up and penetrated, and feel that pleasure deep inside.”

Otacon’s eyes fell shut. “God, yes. I want it really bad.” He covered his face with his hands. “Oh, I can’t believe I’m telling you this. You’re practically a stranger!”

“Sometimes it can be easier to tell your secrets to a stranger.” Snake played with Otacon’s hair a little, pushing stray strands behind his ear. “You know, I could give you what you need…if you let me.” He took Otacon’s hand and placed it on his cock, let him touch it through the fatigues, showing him that it was hard. “You feel that?”

Otacon swallowed. “Yeah.”

He guided Otacon’s hand back and forth, encouraging him to explore the whole length of it. “I could put all that inside you.”

It was all Otacon could do not to beg for this immediately. He instead stuttered, “I…I really shouldn’t. I love my boyfriend.”

“Of course you do, of course you do. But it seems to me like you need some special attention, and he’s not around to handle it right now.” Snake brought his lips just to the corner of Otacon’s panting, open mouth and said, “How about it, huh? How about letting me have just a little taste, and then we’ll see how you feel.”

Otacon made a little breathy noise that must have sounded close enough to an affirmative for Snake. He pressed his lips to Otacon’s, and all pretense of Otacon’s resistance vanished. He really wanted to keep it up – he didn’t want to give in to this “stranger” too easily, and make Snake think that he was actually inclined to stray. But Snake was the one who started all this, and was pushing it along, so he must have wanted Otacon to give in to him.

Snake’s mouth was hot, his lips dry but soft, and the instant that the very tip of Snake’s tongue touched the corner of Otacon’s mouth, Otacon turned and opened his mouth wide, thrusting his tongue out to meet Snake’s. Without breaking the kiss, Snake went for the zip of Otacon’s hoodie, opening it and pushing it off his shoulders. When it was off, Otacon acted more like shackles had been removed from him; his hands immediately lifted to hold Snake’s face in his hands, desperate for more hot, wet kisses.

“Can I take you to the bedroom?” Snake asked, one hand sneaking under Otacon’s t-shirt.

Otacon answered by wrapping his arms around Snake’s neck. Snake stood up, taking Otacon with him, one arm around him, leading the way.

At the foot of the bed, Snake grabbed Otacon’s t-shirt and yanked it up over his head, then immediately made a grab for the button of his jeans. For a moment, Otacon was a little disappointed – was this all going to be so rushed? But he was too swept up to protest. Once Snake had him completely naked, he hoisted him up and plopped him on the bed. Otacon reached in vain for Snake, to undress him as well, but Snake insisted, with a hand on Otacon’s chest, that he stay down. “Let me look at you,” he said.

Otacon was shy about this, propping himself up on his elbows and curling up his legs to hide himself a little. But Snake was gawking at him like he was a seven-course meal. “I can see why your boyfriend would want to have this all to himself,” he said, leaning down to slide his palm over Otacon’s belly and hip. Otacon still had trouble believing that the sight of his body could drive Snake wild, but he supposed by now that it had to be the truth, because it would have exhausted Snake for sure, if he was still faking that level of enthusiasm after all this time.

Snake stood up straight, shrugged out of his vest, and pulled his t-shirt off, not trying to make a show of it but doing so nonetheless – there was no unceremonious way to remove one’s clothing when one looked that good. He went for the buttons of his fatigues, but Otacon said, “Wait!”

Snake froze.

“Go slow,” Otacon said. “Please.”

Snake grinned. “You want a little striptease, huh?”

Otacon nodded. “Uh huh.”

“I can make that happen.” He continued undressing, but did it slowly now, popping open each button and spreading open the fabric inch by inch.

Even though he had seen Snake naked countless times before, the way he was doing it now, this whole act, was making Otacon almost salivate with anticipation. He watched as Snake tugged down his unbuttoned fatigues just far enough to play with his hard cock through his boxer-briefs, showing off the long, thick outline of it. Then he tucked his thumb in the waistband and tugged, slowly, until his cock came tumbling out, bobbing at first but then just twitching with each heartbeat, while Snake waited for Otacon to look his fill.

Otacon’s jaw was practically on his chest, and he unfolded his legs, wanting to just spread them wide open, show Snake just where he wanted that cock to go. Snake chuckled, and bent down to unlace his boots, kicking then off so he could finish undressing. Otacon watched the pull and slide of his muscles as he saw to this mundane activity, rapt.

Snake put a knee on the mattress, then crawled forward; Otacon desperately wanted Snake’s body to cover his own, but Snake paused when he’d gotten just far enough to get a kiss. Otacon’s body was on fire, the chaste meeting of lips making him ache all over for more, for anything at all. But if he moved his arms, he wouldn’t be able to hold himself up in this position, and the kiss would break.

Snake retreated, ignoring Otacon’s noises of protest and looking down at his body, at his trembling thighs and straining erection. “Do you want me to suck you off first?”

“Okay,” Otacon said, stupidly, like Snake was asking for a favor instead of offering one. “I mean yes, please.”

“You want to come in my mouth—”

“Yes.”

Snake smiled, and continued, “…so that you can get relaxed, or do you want to wait to come until I’m inside you?”

“Oh.” Otacon contemplated this for a moment, then said, “Both. I want to come in your mouth, and then I want to come again while you’re…yeah, while you’re inside me. I can do it, I’m sure I can, if you make me.” Not that it would really be that much of a challenge…but it was more fun for both of them, he imagined, to pretend that it was, that it would be hard, sweaty, passionate work.

Snake nudged Otacon to lie flat on his back, settling himself between his thighs. He held Otacon’s hips firmly with both arms, which made Otacon flush with anticipation – restraining him could only mean that Snake was planning to tease him until he was bucking and thrusting. And indeed, Snake set to work nuzzling his thighs, nosing in his pubic hair, planting chaste kisses across his hipbones, breathing hot breath over his balls, and just generally acting as though his dick didn’t exist. It felt so good but it was just teasing, and there was nothing Otacon could do about it but struggle a little.

A pearl of pre-come gathered at the tip of Otacon’s cock, quivering as he wriggled beneath Snake’s touch, then finally breaking, dribbling down his glans and over his frenulum. It tickled like hell and Otacon was sure he couldn’t stand another second of such torment, which was when Snake took him into his mouth in one languid stroke.

Snake didn’t pull any fancy tricks now; he never did when he was going down on Otacon. There was no twist of the wrist, no nibbling, no humming. He just took Otacon as deeply as he could and sucked with such overwhelming affection, such meticulous tenderness, that Otacon could hardly bear it. He didn’t _need_ to do anything weird – it was all in the attention he gave to the plain and simple way he went about it. He made Otacon feel spoiled by the pure devotion he displayed. And he kept his eyes closed while he did it, because he knew Otacon liked to watch him but was afraid of being embarrassed by unexpected eye contact.

It was so perfect, Otacon didn’t want to interfere in any way, by giving Snake instructions or touching his head or neck. He just relaxed and let it happen, and after a while the sweetest, most endearing thing of all would happen, which was when Otacon would say softly, “Gonna finish now” – without looking up or breaking his rhythm, Snake would give him a thumbs-up, to acknowledge his warning.

Otacon’s cry of ecstasy pierced the quiet room. Snake swallowed hard and deeply, taking everything that Otacon spilled into his mouth with no mess. When Otacon became too sensitive, and squirmed away, Snake held him down and planted a few more tender kisses on his belly and hip, then sat up and stroked his inner thigh, prompting his otherwise boneless body to twitch some more from the oversensitivity.

“Where do you keep the lube?” Snake asked.

Otacon’s brow furrowed. He lifted a hand to point at the nightstand behind him, and said slowly, “In the…drawer?” Then he remembered: this wasn’t Snake. It was a _stranger_.

This situation – Snake preparing Otacon to receive – had happened so infrequently in the past that they didn’t have a routine for it, which added to the excitement, the novelty of it. Otacon considered flipping onto his front, which might make it easier for Snake to do what he needed to do, but decided to stay on his back, so he could watch Snake do it – he wanted to memorize this rare sight, save it for future solitary entertainment. And he wanted Snake to see him, too, to see his gratitude. He spread his legs wide, giving Snake as much access as he could. Snake put his knees between Otacon’s and bent to his task, his face a mask, tentative. Otacon considered asking, jokingly, if he needed radio support so he could carry out his mission, but all thought of snarkiness left him when Snake touched two warm, slick fingers to his entrance.

His yelp of surprise made Snake freeze, or perhaps Otacon’s dramatic but familiar noises would not have stopped Snake but they stopped _Pliskin_ , who asked, “Everything alright?”

“Oh, yes,” Otacon said. Then he got coy, for fun. “It’s just, no one’s ever touched me there before, except my boyfriend.”

Snake grinned, while his fingers pressed, explored. “You saved this for him, huh? He’s a lucky guy.”

“He is,” Otacon said with a grin, unable to keep from joking at this most awkward of times. “I’m quite a catch!”

But then Snake gave him a look of earnest fondness, a look no stranger could give to another stranger. It was a look that said that Otacon could treat what he’d just said as a joke, but that Snake felt it absolutely unironically. He leaned forward to give Otacon a kiss on the forehead. Otacon grabbed the back of Snake’s neck and kissed him back, on the mouth. Snake had the good sense to press a finger inside Otacon at the same moment he licked into his mouth, drawing a fresh moan out of him, a renewed tension after the languor of his orgasm.

Snake continued to kiss him delicately while opening him up with skill and patience, able to concentrate on these two intimate tasks simultaneously and execute both with deft precision. His whole life, Snake had been trained to carry out every mission with one hundred percent effort and focus, because to half-ass anything could result in disaster. This attitude, Otacon had found, was one that he maintained off the battlefield as well, a discipline that he did not feel the need to take a break from in the bedroom – and Otacon was eternally grateful for that. Even if this was not the arrangement Snake preferred when they were intimate, he was not about to shirk or to rush through it. He treated this act as though it were the centerpiece of their evening together, not just a preliminary. He didn’t push for it to be over; it would be over when Otacon began to beg for his cock instead of his fingers.

And what drove Otacon to finally demand this was not a need for something with more girth inside him, not a need for more depth of penetration, but simply a desire to feel Snake’s body as close to his own as possible, a need for an entwining of bodies to surpass even the level of intimacy they were now enjoying. Otacon wanted to see Snake’s expression change as he slowly entered his body; he wanted to feel those powerful arms around his, those muscled thighs between his. He wanted to feel that suffocating tropical heat that they created between themselves when they were pushing and struggling skin-to-skin for every bolt and wave of pleasure.

While he understood that this was not Snake’s favorite way to physically express his affection, Otacon did everything in his power to make it a gratifying experience for him, stroking his ego by articulating – to the best of his ability when being thoroughly plowed – how good Snake was at this, how incredible it made him feel. He made it very clear when Snake nudged his prostate squarely, encouraging him to replicate the depth and angle of those strokes. A few good thrusts like that, and Otacon could feel a hopeful, familiar throbbing in his prick; he was getting hard again. He wanted to take himself in hand, stroke himself fully erect and make it easier to come – but he did not give in, because more than that, he wanted Snake to control everything, to treat him so good that he could come just from having Snake’s cock inside him. He didn’t know if he could do it, but he wanted to try. He lifted his legs higher, hooking them around Snake’s back, breathing deeply, doing everything he could to open himself up more, to feel more profoundly the weird intense pleasure of being penetrated.

Snake worked tirelessly; it surely had not escaped him that Otacon was specifically not using his hands, and Snake may have cheated a little by pressing their bellies together, giving Otacon some friction on his aching prick. Otacon was in no state to protest against it once the tingling began in his calves, an electric pleasure that shot up his thighs and made him cry out as his body surrendered to a blinding, surging climax. His prick pumped clear and plentiful spurts as his spine kinked and his thighs clamped around Snake’s flanks. “Give it to me!” he cried. “Give it to me!”

Just as the tremors wracking his limbs began to subside, Snake grunted once, softly, then stilled. Otacon had to pay careful attention sometimes to catch Snake’s orgasm; he was so quiet about it that Otacon used to worry that he wasn’t feeling very much pleasure. Snake had assured him that this was not the case, he was just used to being quiet. But that meant that every shudder, every hiccupping breath, every slip in his stoic demeanor became unbelievably erotic, and just hearing Snake’s grunt, feeling that fleeting moment of tension in his whole body, drew one final pulse from Otacon, after which they sighed (Snake silently, Otacon heavily) and their fatigued bodies collapsed into a satiated heap. Snake was aware that he was heavy, so he tried to rest his weight on the mattress where he could, and not on Otacon.

After savoring the afterglow for a few quiet, blissful minutes, Otacon decided he wanted to have just a little bit more fun playing their game. He jerked his head up and said, “Oh no, what if my boyfriend were to walk in right now and see us like this! There’d be no explaining it away, would there?”

Snake gave a little amused exhalation through his nose, and lifted his head to calm Otacon with more kisses. “I’m sure he won’t be home for a while yet. Plenty of time for me to get you tucked into bed.” He got his arms under him and pushed himself up.

“What about you, though?”

Snake heaved himself up and crawled forward to pull the sheets back from the corner of the bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll stick around until you fall asleep.”

Otacon lowered his head and relaxed again. “Oh, that’d be nice. I don’t want to feel lonely after you leave.”

“Never,” Snake said. “Well, just for one second, huh? While I get a towel.”

Otacon lay limp and sated, waiting for Snake to return and tidy him up with a washcloth and towel. Snake easily lifted him to where the sheets had been pulled back, tugging them over him, getting him cozy. After seeing to himself with the towel and then casting it aside, Snake crawled into bed, spooning up behind Otacon and wrapping one delightfully possessive arm around his middle.

“Mmm, will I ever see you again after tonight?” Otacon asked.

“I told you, you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” Snake said against the nape of Otacon’s neck. “You’re irresistible.”

“Oh, geez,” Otacon said, and curled in on himself a little, still embarrassed to be the object of such bluntly-articulated desire. He wanted to stay awake for hours, enjoy their game some more, enjoy being held by “Iroquois Pliskin,” but he’d been taken care of so well, and was so tired and warm and comfortable, he settled into sleep in moments.

***

Otacon woke to the smell of coffee, and light pouring in through the window. The bedroom door was open, and from the front room he could feel morning energy; Snake had probably been up for a while, puttering around, catching up on chores. As Otacon rolled over, his sore muscles reminded him of what had happened the night before. It was like he’d had the most wonderful dream, but better, because unlike a dream, the memory did not elude him; the more he thought about it, the more he recalled of it, every joyously heart-pounding moment.

A full bladder combined with his vivid recollections soon gave him a somewhat urgent erection, and when Snake elbowed in the door with a cup of coffee, it did not escape his notice. “No need to wish you good morning, huh? Looks like you’re already there.”

“Don’t get excited,” Otacon said, taking the proffered cup. “I’m gonna take one sip of this and then get up and pee.”

Snake flopped on the bed next to Otacon, who was slowly working his way towards sitting up. “Sorry I got back so late last night. Important business.”

“It’s okay,” Otacon said, unable to repress a sly smile as he played along. “I had plenty to keep me busy.”

“And some pleasant dreams?” Snake asked, reaching across the blankets to playfully skim over Otacon’s morning erection.

“Maybe!” Otacon said with a giggle. “Be careful, you’ll make me spill this.”

Snake left him alone, but insisted, “Put me in your appointment book, then. Right after ‘take a piss’ and ‘drink your coffee.’ Just cross out everything else for today and write me in.”

“What about a shower?”

“Me and a shower is not a conflict,” Snake suggested.

Otacon ruffled Snake’s hair with his free hand before getting out of the bed. “I’ll pencil you in.”

**Author's Note:**

> berlynn-wohl.tumblr and @berlynnwohl on Twitter for more of this sort of nonsense, including information about my work that is not available on AO3


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